


Journeys End in Lovers Meeting

by TheSopherfly



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canon Divergence - Captain America: The First Avenger, Developing Relationship, Epistolary, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Historical References, Letters, Light Angst, Love Letters, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Smut, World War II, howard and tony are brothers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-01 02:50:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17235938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSopherfly/pseuds/TheSopherfly
Summary: Bucky writes letters to his sweetheart back home during the war. Nobody knows his sweetheart is Anthony Stark, Howard's younger brother.~In which Tony and Bucky meet, part, and meet again.





	Journeys End in Lovers Meeting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Arboreal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arboreal/gifts).



> This fic diverges from canon, imagining that Tony is Howard's brother instead of his son. It also rearranges the timetable of the First Avenger so that Steve becomes Captain America before he and Bucky ship out, and the Stark Expo happens somewhere in between (mentioned but not depicted in the fic).
> 
> I did do a lot of historical research for a few small things in this fic - see the end notes for some links that I found very informative.
> 
> Thanks so much to [folklejend](https://folklejend.tumblr.com/) for beta reading!

 

It had been a long time since Tony had woken up in a stranger’s bed. His head was resting on strangely soft pillows, his unclothed body still covered with silk sheets. He blinked a few times against the light coming through the curtains, rubbing his eyes with the back of one hand. He wondered, lazily, what time it was. How long had he slept?

How long had _they_ slept?

Tony turned over his right shoulder. Yes, the man he’d gone home with was still here. Still here and still asleep, and by the look of it, still naked under the sheets, too. James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky to his friends, and to Tony, apparently. That was the name Tony had used when he’d - when they’d - well.

Bucky was Steve Rogers’ best friend, and Steve Rogers was Howard’s most recent scientific success. _Captain America._ Howard, Tony’s aggravating, condescending, infuriating older brother, wouldn’t shut up about it. Tony hadn’t told Bucky about that particular familial tie, and if Bucky hadn’t noticed the resemblance, Tony wasn’t going to point it out. Nothing killed a mood quite like finding out you’d had sex with your friend’s little brother.

Really, Tony probably should’ve been thanking Howard. Tony and Bucky had met at Howard’s gala, after all. ‘Celebrating Captain America,’ the invitation had read. Howard had sent him a stupid invitation instead of calling, as if using the telephone was some enormous imposition. Disappointing, but not surprising. Tony had only made an appearance because of the open bar, and because his mother had told him how much it would _mean_ to her if he attended and ‘celebrated Howard’s success.’ His expression turned sour at the memory.

He had planned to show up, have a few drinks, then disappear. That was his usual routine. He hadn’t expected Bucky to sidle up next to him, casual as anything, and start flirting.

“You look like you could use some company.”

Tony turned, taking in the man next to him. Tall, but not too tall. Dark hair. Strong jaw. Blue eyes that might’ve made a person weak at the knees, if they were susceptible to that sort of thing. The army uniform did the man all kinds of favors, accentuating what was obviously a very fit figure without being too… what was the word? Overstated. It was a nice deviation from all the suits and bowties.

“Oh yeah?” Tony smiled, meeting the man’s eyes briefly before looking away. Always leave them wanting more, right? Besides, Tony didn’t want to seem too eager. He’d been accused of coming on too strong before, though never with anyone who hadn’t welcomed the advance. “What’s your name, Soldier?”

“James Barnes. But you can call me Bucky.”

Bucky. _Howard’s_ Bucky. Did that make Tony any less interested? Ha. Not in the slightest. Just because Bucky was Howard’s friend, that didn’t mean Tony couldn’t pursue him. It just meant Tony had to be a little more careful. A little less forthcoming when it came to personal details. Personal details like-

“What’s yours?”

Like _names._ Stark was, unfortunately, a dead giveaway. Luckily for Tony, Howard rarely referred to him as anything other than ‘my little brother.’ Anthony would be as safe a name as anything. “Anthony,” he said finally. “But you can call me Tony.”

“Tony.”

Tony suppressed a shiver. The way that word sounded in Bucky’s soft baritone - he wanted to ask Bucky to say it again, just to make sure he hadn’t imagined the thrill running up his spine. He shifted back a little onto his heels, resisting the urge to give Bucky another once-over. Something that pretty, you couldn’t help but stare, and he didn’t want to be caught looking too interested, at least not yet.

“Lot of pretty dames here,” Bucky said.

Tony kept his gaze fixed on the dance floor when he replied, “And yet here you are, talking to me.”

“Yeah, guess I am.”

Even looking ahead, Tony could feel the way Bucky’s eyes stayed on him. “You wouldn’t rather be out there?” He couldn’t quite help glancing up, and Bucky smiled a dazzling kind of smile that made Tony’s pulse jump.

“Nah. I think I like the company better here.”

Well. That answered that, if it hadn’t been obvious before. No dancing with dames for this fella.

“I don’t blame you,” Tony said, flashing a smile of his own. “I’m _excellent_ company.” And damn cocky, too. Maybe Bucky liked cocky. Then again, maybe a statement like that was a little too much. Just because Bucky was interested in men didn’t mean Tony wasn’t still capable of messing it up.

Bucky paused just long enough to make Tony think he’d gone too far, then asked, “Can I get you a drink?”

So Bucky _did_ like cocky. Or at least, he wasn’t turned off by Tony’s particular brand of intense overconfidence. Tony licked his lips. “Sure. Whiskey neat.”

Bucky inclined his head, and damn, that smile only got harder to resist. “Be right back.”

It only took a minute for Bucky to reappear, drinks in hand. He passed Tony’s over, their fingers brushing just briefly in the handoff. Tony wondered if that was intentional; if so, it was beautifully subtle.

Tony took a sip, then another, trying to decide on the right conversation starter. “So. Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

Bucky considered that for a moment. “Well. You know the ‘Star Spangled Man with a Plan’ we’re celebrating tonight?”

Tony nodded.

“Been best friends with him since we were kids.”

 _“Really_ ,” Tony said, feigning ignorance. If he was going to pretend he didn’t know Howard at all, then he had to commit. As far as Bucky knew, Tony was only aware of Captain America based on what was in the papers. Those personal details Tony had stored in his head - he’d have to act like he didn’t know them at all. “You’re best friends with Captain America?”

“Yep,” Bucky said. “Known him forever.”

“Wow. Must be strange, seeing your friend change like that.” Tony was thankful it had been Steve, and not Howard himself, who had agreed to undergo the experiment. Howard as Captain America would’ve been too much, and Howard was too much already. Tony wondered if it bothered Bucky, having his friend suddenly become explosively popular, and handsome on top of that. “What’s it like now that he’s - I don’t know - beefy?”

“Little emasculating, if I’m bein’ honest.” Bucky took a drink, his eyes never leaving Tony’s face. “He gets all the attention nowadays.”

Tony didn’t doubt it. Still, _he’d_ never been attracted to Steve, not before the serum, not after. The muscles were incredible, sure, but Big and Blond would never captivate Tony like Tall, Dark, and Handsome did. “Not _all_ the attention,” Tony corrected, sitting back into one hip and trying to look casual.

Bucky cocked an eyebrow. “You tellin’ me that if he was standin’ here next to me, I’d still be the one you wanted to - whatever it is you wanna do with me?”

Tony let the last part of Bucky’s question hang; after all, no answer was an answer all by itself. _You bet there are things I want to do with you._

“Absolutely,” Tony said.

That made Bucky stand up straighter, his eyes somehow darkening a shade and growing brighter at the same time. He set down his drink on a passing tray, then gestured in the direction of the staircase, barely visible at the end of the hall. “You wanna go for a walk?”

Tony had been in houses like this before. The upper level was bound to be a maze of beautiful bathrooms and outrageously ornate bedrooms, with comforters and curtains that cost more than a month of an army man’s salary. In his younger years, Tony had played tricks in houses like this, moving furniture to different rooms and rearranging the contents of all the bathroom cabinets. Now, he was just hoping for a private place with a lock on the door.

He grinned, setting his own drink down and moving to follow Bucky up the stairs. “I’d love to.”

~

“Longest hallway I’ve ever seen,” Bucky said once they’d made it to the second floor.

It did seem to go on for days, making the house look even larger on the inside than it had appeared on the outside. Mansions in this part of town tended to have that effect. Tony wondered briefly how much Howard was paying to host the gala here at a private residence. Might’ve been more than it would’ve cost at a hall, but of course, for Howard, price was no object. All that mattered was the ambiance. For a man who claimed only to be interested in science, Howard sure bought just as heavily into appearances.

Bucky paused just a few feet from the staircase, looking down the hall from door to door. “Never been in a house like this.”

Huh. Tony hadn’t thought of that, but he probably should’ve known. The house, the party, the clothes and expensive jewelry; to Bucky, they all must have been entirely foreign. Before Steve had become Captain America, Bucky had probably lived a modest life. Simple. Not full of all this ridiculous opulence that rich New York families desired so deeply, the Starks included.

Tony found himself wanting to show Bucky each room one by one. There was something about the look on a person’s face when they saw this kind of extravagance for the first time. Even if Tony wanted to reject this part of his legacy, that didn’t mean Bucky didn’t deserve to see the way the other half - the upper class New York elite - lived.

“I say we go to the end of the hall and work our way back,” Tony said. “The fanciest rooms are probably all the way at the end.”

Bucky followed him silently, staying close enough that Tony thought he could feel the heat of Bucky’s body. If that made it just a little harder to breathe, Tony didn’t let on. “How long until you ship out?” Tony asked.

“A week,” Bucky replied.

Oh. As much as Tony knew about the war effort and Captain America, he hadn’t known _that._ “That’s… soon.”

“I know.” Bucky shoved his hands into his pockets. “Tryin’ to enjoy myself while I can.”

Tony smiled conspiratorially. “Hence the sneaking around during a private party.” He pushed open the door at the end of the hall, motioning for Bucky to follow him inside.

It was a bedroom and sitting room in one, with a small library in what Tony judged to be the westernmost corner. Tony made his way toward the books almost instinctively, not nearly as impressed by the silk sheets and gossamer curtains as he was by the striking number of first editions. Whoever owned this house, they had a penchant for poetry. There were a few scientific texts, and a novel or two interspersed, but the vast majority were Byron and Tennyson and all their counterparts, sometimes with two or three versions of the same book.

“They’ve got something for you here,” Tony said. “It’s Whitman. ‘O Captain! My Captain!’” He made an amused noise in his throat, not quite a laugh. “Longfellow, too.”

“Which one is he?”

 _“ _‘_ Listen my children, and you shall hear of the midnight ride of Paul Revere.’ _ No accounting for taste.” Tony picked up the book and thumbed through it briefly before setting it back in its place. “Oh, here we go.”

“What is it?”

“Poe.”

“D’you like him?”

“Better than the others. He’s so… morbid. It’s fascinating. And sometimes the words he uses are just - well. Listen to this one.” Tony flipped the page until he found the poem he was looking for, then read aloud. _“‘And neither the angels in Heaven above/ Nor the demons down under the sea/ Can ever dissever my soul from the soul/ Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.’”_ He paused, closing the book softly. _“_ _ _C_ an ever dissever. _ I would never think to use words like that.”

Something devious passed across Bucky’s face. “Think they’d mind if I borrowed it?”

“What?” Tony blinked, incredulous. “James Barnes. Are you suggesting that we steal from one of the wealthiest families in Manhattan?”

Bucky grinned, trying to pull the book out of Tony’s hand, and Tony held it away, shoving it back onto the bookshelf. “Nope. I won’t let you do it. Besides, someone will see you carrying that thing out of here.”

“Alright,” Bucky said, holding up his hands in surrender. “Promise I won’t suggest stealin’ anything else.”

“Good,” Tony said with an air of finality. He pushed the book in, making sure it was even with the rest, before turning to look at Bucky, realizing belatedly that reciting poetry maybe wasn’t the sexiest thing in the world. He cringed, hoping he hadn’t blown his chances with Bucky by being too interested in literature. What a stupid mistake that would’ve been. He looked up and noticed just how close Bucky was standing. Huh. Maybe he wasn’t entirely out of luck. Maybe Bucky liked poetry. Or maybe Bucky just liked _Tony_.

“Lotta poetry here,” Bucky said.

“Yeah,” Tony replied. He leaned back, his shoulder blades pressed into the bookshelf, going for something between casual and inviting. “That’s what I was noticing.”

“My favorite’s E. E. Cummings.” Bucky stepped forward, one hand braced against the bookshelf to bring him even closer, the other catching Tony’s jaw, thumb tracing Tony’s lower lip. _“‘Kisses are a better fate than wisdom.’”_

That was about as un-subtle as it got. Tony’s pulse thrummed in his throat. “I like that one too.” He tilted his head up to meet Bucky’s eyes, but his gaze got caught on the way up, and he stared at Bucky’s lips, tracing the lines and curves until he was sure he’d been looking too long. He swallowed, finally tearing himself away.

“Can I kiss you?” Bucky asked softly.

“Of _course_ you can.”

Bucky lowered his mouth to Tony’s, the press of lips gentle and achingly sweet. Tony’s hands reached reflexively, one landing on Bucky’s collarbone, the other on his cheek. It was brief, too quick and too soft, and all Tony wanted was _more_.

“We should do that again,” Tony said, his voice deeper than it had any right to be. “But first, can we relocate? Don’t want to do anything inappropriate in front of the books.”

Bucky barked a low laugh. “Alright. How ’bout we go this way,” he said, nodding once toward the ensuite bathroom.

The room was dark, the only light a faint flicker from the streetlamp outside. Tony’s eyes swept from left to right, taking in what he could of the fixtures, surprised to find that the floor was carpeted. The click of the lock shouldn’t have made him jump, but he wasn’t quite expecting the loud echo, and he swallowed as Bucky stepped into his personal space, wondering why he was suddenly nervous as all hell. He suspected it had something to do with just how attractive Bucky was, and just how long it had been since he’d felt this kind of chemistry with anyone.

“This better?” Bucky asked, playful but sincere.

“Yes. Much better.”

They moved at the same time, Tony lifting up, Bucky leaning down. Their lips met hard and fast this time, Bucky’s hands dropping to Tony’s waist, Tony’s arms sliding around Bucky’s neck. Bucky’s mouth was hot and greedy, and Tony opened to him, their tongues sliding together, the electricity between them overwhelming.

Tony found himself pressed back into the vanity, and on instinct, he lifted himself up onto the counter, his mouth just barely disconnecting with Bucky’s as he did so. With his legs free to circle Bucky’s waist, he tugged Bucky closer, their hips flush together, Bucky’s hardness pressing into him through those uniform trousers.

It was so much more than a blind scramble in the dark. Bucky knew his way around a suit, and Tony’s bow tie and jacket fell to the floor in record time. Shirt buttons went next, quick as anything, and then Bucky’s big, warm hands met Tony’s skin, the most delicious sensation he’d felt in years. He grabbed onto Bucky’s tie, dragging Bucky closer.

Finally Tony pulled away to suck in a breath, his heartbeat erratic, his chest rising and falling rapidly under Bucky’s hands. “Wow.” Tony met Bucky’s eyes, searching. Even in the dark, he could tell that Bucky’s pupils were blown, so much so that those bright blue irises were almost entirely occluded.

“Yeah?” Bucky asked, as if Tony’s disheveled state didn’t speak volumes about Bucky’s performance. Tony hadn’t been kissed like that in… Huh. He didn’t know if he’d _ever_ been kissed like that. He would need a good five minutes before he was in any shape to go back to the party, and if they went any further without going all the way, he might have to help himself to a cold shower. That wouldn’t have been entirely proper, not that the hosts would’ve even noticed.

“Yeah,” Tony confirmed, tilting his head up to catch Bucky’s lips again. He hummed, pulling away almost as soon as he’d started, trying to convince himself that sucking a stranger off in another stranger’s fancy bathroom _wasn’t_ a good idea, as much as his body wanted him to do just that. He wasn’t drunk, or anyway, not drunk enough that his judgment was so impaired, but he couldn’t clear the image from his mind. “We - we should probably stop.” Then, when he saw uncertainty pass over Bucky’s face, “It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just that - I’m not very good at acting like I didn’t just get fucked.”

Bucky breathed out slowly, nodding in understanding. “Don’t think I am either.” With visible effort, he let his hands drop, gripping either side of the counter. “D’you wanna come home with me? Pick this up somewhere more private?”

Oh, god. The image of the evening that Tony had prepared for - a night spent drunk and alone - disintegrated in his mind, replaced with visions of a very naked Bucky Barnes. It was more than he could’ve hoped for. “Yeah.” Tony nodded, sure he looked too eager and not able to bring himself to care. “I _really_ do.”

~

Somehow they managed to compose themselves enough to go back downstairs, Bucky returning to the party to say a few goodbyes, Tony disappearing without so much as a word to anyone. He waited outside, counting the minutes impatiently. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Finally Bucky emerged, and it took considerable self-control for Tony not to jump him right then and there.

“Normally I’d just walk,” Bucky said as he approached. “But it’ll be a lot quicker if we take a cab.”

Tony had no problem springing for the price of a cab, and the two sat silently in the backseat, anticipation thick between them. Bucky’s apartment wasn’t quite what Tony would consider the other side of town, even if it was in Brooklyn; it only took twenty minutes, and Tony dropped a wad of cash into the cabbie’s hand, not bothering to ask for change before following Bucky outside and up the stairs toward the second floor apartment. Bucky almost fumbled the key, and then they were inside, Bucky flicking on the light and locking the door behind them.

“It ain’t much,” Bucky said. “You can hang your jacket up by the door, if you want.”

It might not have been much compared to the mansion they’d just left, but as far as apartments went, it had plenty of space. There was a kitchen, a dining room, and a living room, and Tony could only assume at least one bedroom down the hall. It was more than Tony had expected. It was comfortable. Homey. “I like it,” Tony said, sliding his jacket off and setting it on the coat rack. “It’s nice.”

Bucky smiled warmly in response. “Can I get you anythin’ to drink?”

Tony shook his head. “I think I’ve had plenty for tonight.”

“What about water?”

Tony swallowed dryly. Water was probably a good idea - but he had more important things on his mind. “I’m sort of craving something else.”

There was heat in Bucky’s eyes, and in his voice when he spoke. “Bedroom’s this way.”

Tony barely gave Bucky time to close the door before jumping him, their mouths clashing together, Tony’s grasping hands seeking contact everywhere they could. “I want… Ah. Can I-”

Tony didn’t finish asking for permission before undoing the button on Bucky’s uniform trousers. He slid one hand under the waistband, the fabric catching on his wrist for just an instant, and then his palm met the warmth of Bucky’s cock through thin shorts, already hard. Bucky’s head dropped forward, eyes sliding closed, lips parting softly.

Encouraged and emboldened, Tony withdrew his hand and pulled Bucky’s trousers halfway down, setting to work on the shorts. These were obviously military issue, not like his, and even after undoing the drawstrings at the sides, they still had to be unbuttoned. Tony’s fingers fumbled the buttons one at a time, the process frustratingly slow. “Damn it,” he cursed, fighting with the third button until Bucky reached down to help.

“Sorry,” Bucky said. “Uncle Sam needs rubber, remember?”

Tony smiled a little, letting out a breath when Bucky’s shorts finally fell from his hips. “Whoever I bought mine from didn’t get the memo.”

Tony’s dress pants and boxer shorts fell quickly to the ground, suspenders still connected, everything pushed aside in a careless pile as Bucky walked them back toward the bed. A few more kisses, a few more articles of clothing scattered across the room, and then the bed creaked under their weight as Tony settled himself just beneath the pillows, breathing out when Bucky shifted between his legs, hovering above him.

“This okay?” Bucky asked.

“Perfect.”

“Good.” Bucky dropped his hips, his cock brushing against Tony’s.

“Shit.” Tony closed his eyes, tilting his head back. That felt good, so good that Tony rolled his own hips to replicate the sensation. _Fuck._ “Condoms?”

“Middle drawer,” Bucky replied. “Got some of that lubricating jelly, too.”

Of all the men Tony had been with, Bucky was by far the most prepared, and Tony couldn’t have been more thankful. As obvious as it sounded, sex with a stranger was always better when everyone felt comfortable and safe. Tony reached down and pulled open the drawer, only half able to see its contents. He felt around for the condom tin, then found the tube of jelly, handing them to Bucky one by one.

“Thought metal was reserved for the war effort too,” Tony said, watching as Bucky tossed the tin aside and rolled the condom on.

“It’s an old tin. Saved it from when I was younger. Don’t worry, condom’s fresh. Just like keepin’ ’em in somethin’ nice.”

Tony could understand that. He didn’t trust the paper packaging that manufacturers were using nowadays. He waited for Bucky to spread the lube, first over the condom, then over Tony’s hole. Tony bit his lip at the strangeness of the sensation. “You really know what you’re doing, huh?”

“Made about every mistake before.” Bucky leaned down and kissed him, one thumb brushing his cheekbone in a soothing gesture. “You ready?”

“Yes. Just - one second.” Tony shifted, rolling over and lifting himself onto all fours. He liked it better like this; he hoped Bucky would too. “Is this okay?”

“Fuck, _Tony_. Yes. That’s… That’s perfect. Christ.” Bucky groaned, stopping short as soon as he was fully seated. That was just as well, because Bucky was _big_. Bigger than Tony was used to, anyway. Still, it didn’t take long for Tony’s body to adjust, the burn of the stretch subsiding until Tony wanted more. He pushed back experimentally, and Bucky’s fingers tightened on his hips.

A quick intake of breath, and then Bucky pulled out halfway, sliding back in slow and steady. “God, _Tony_.”

Hearing Bucky say his name like that… It was like some sort of drug. Tony might’ve preened if he’d been able to think straight. For those first few seconds he stayed quiet, focusing on how good it felt; then Bucky’s thrusts got harder, deeper, and Tony couldn’t help but moan, a broken sound for every time that Bucky filled him, a shaky breath for every time that Bucky pulled back.

When Bucky started moving faster, each thrust a sharp snap that made the bed shake, Tony had almost reached his limit. He could feel his release building, closer and closer, god, _so close_. “Bucky,” he said in warning. “I’m - I need to-”

“I got you,” Bucky said, releasing Tony’s right hip to wrap a hand around Tony’s cock.

Oh _god_ , did that feel good. That was exactly what he needed. “Don’t stop,” Tony begged.

“Wouldn’t dare,” Bucky breathed, lips moving against Tony’s shoulder. “I’m close too, so - oh, Tony, I’m gonna-”

The rest was lost in a cry muffled by Tony’s skin, and Bucky’s body shuddered as he came, not slowing his rhythm, not loosening his grip on Tony’s cock. One thrust into Bucky’s hand, two, and then Tony tumbled over the edge after him, come painting Bucky’s fingers and the bedsheets, pleasure exploding behind Tony’s eyes.

In the few seconds it took him to come down, Bucky pulled out and slipped off of the bed to dispose of the condom. Even if they were both sweaty, Tony missed Bucky’s body heat, and he felt himself shiver at the loss. When he had recovered enough to move, he rolled over onto his back, dragging a hand through his hair and breathing deep. “Damn. You are… unbelievable.”

Bucky flashed a smile. “So are you, doll.”

“Doll? Isn’t that what you’d call a dame?”

“The way I figure,” Bucky said, crawling back onto the bed to join him, “it doesn’t have to be gender specific.”

“Huh. I guess that’s true. Alright. I’ll be your doll, then.” Tony paused, wondering if that was maybe too presumptuous of him. Was Bucky interested in anything more than a one night stand? “So, how are we doing this?”

“What do you mean?”

Tony sat up, covering himself with the sheet by sheer force of habit. “I mean, do you want me to leave? Or should I stay?” He couldn’t deny that, unlike all the times before, he didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to throw his clothes back on and called a cab ten minutes after coming down. He wanted to stay. Wanted to have sex with Bucky again, if that option was on the table. Wanted to be close for as long as they could.

“I’d rather you stay.”

Relief made Tony’s grip on the sheet relax, and he flopped back onto the pillows, somehow finding it impossible not to smile. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

~

“Good mornin’, sunshine.”

Tony blinked, dispelling the memories of the night before and refocusing on Bucky, still next to him in the bed. “Morning.”

Bucky’s eyes opened as he turned his head, an easy smile spreading across his face. “You sleep okay?”

Tony nodded. “Your bed’s not as comfortable as mine, though.”

“Well, we’ll have to use yours next time, then.”

Huh. So there was going to be a next time. Tony didn’t mind that, not one bit. ...Except that Bucky was leaving in a week. That made things complicated in a way that Tony didn’t like. If he spent time with Bucky again - if he slept with Bucky again - he risked getting attached to someone who might never come back. Or, worse, who might not want Tony anymore after coming home.

“Tony.” Bucky sat up, a few stray hairs falling into his face. “What’s wrong?”

Only partly distracted by those rippling muscles, Tony allowed himself to give the honest answer. “You’re leaving soon.”

“So?” Bucky punctuated the question with a kiss that had Tony seeing stars. His body responded easily, his cock springing to attention like a damned soldier, and then Bucky was moving down toward it, dropping kisses along Tony’s chest, then his abdomen, then his hip bones. It would’ve been so easy just to give in, to let that physical pull carry him away again. He couldn’t remember wanting someone this much in _years_.

“Hang on, hang on.” Exerting every bit of self-control he possessed, he took hold of Bucky’s arm and pulled until Bucky gave in, moving back up to Tony’s eye level. “Bucky, you’re leaving. You ship out in less than a week!”

“So?” Bucky lowered his head to nuzzle at Tony’s neck. “I like you. Don’t wanna stop seein’ you.”

That warmed Tony from the inside out, his cheeks flushing with pleasure. “Well, you’re going to war. Pretty sure you’ll have to.”

Bucky paused, silently ceding the point. “Letters,” he said after a beat, pulling back to meet Tony’s eyes. “We can write letters.”

“What, like pen pals?”

“More romantic than that. You know, like those dames who write their husbands overseas. I tell you what I’m doin’, you tell me what you’re doin’. We stay in touch. Keep tabs on each other. That sort of thing.”

That was a ridiculous suggestion. They hadn’t even known each other a whole twenty-four hours. And yet… there was something beautiful about the idea. Every soldier needed someone to keep in touch with. So what if they weren’t a traditional couple, if they even counted as a couple at all. With the prospect of letters, was it safer to get just a little more attached?

No, not safer. But Tony wanted it anyway. And what Tony wanted, Tony got.

“Alright. Letters. Okay.” Tony ran a hand through Bucky’s hair, the strands soft under his fingers. “I have to tell you, my penmanship is terrible.”

Bucky smiled. “I don’t mind.”

“Well. You asked for it. We’ll write letters.”

“Good.” Bucky rested big palms on either side of Tony’s bare thighs. “Now that that’s settled, you gonna argue with me when I try to kiss you?”

“You were definitely trying to do more than that.”

“Can you blame me?” Bucky surged up to capture Tony’s lips, kissing him breathless. “Gotta make the most of the time we have.”

“I guess I can’t argue with that.” Tony sighed when Bucky kissed him again, fingers curling into Bucky’s hair. “Alright, Soldier. Show me what you’ve got.”

_~_

As it turned out, a week was time enough for Tony to fall considerably hard for a man he’d just met, which made it all the more difficult when it came time for Bucky to ship out.

Bucky, sentimental fool that he was, wrote Tony a letter before he’d even left. He hand-delivered it the night before his departure, and along with it, a thousand kisses to remember him by. The letter ended up on the floor beside the bed, forgotten for the night - and when morning came and Tony tried his damndest to be _brave_ , Bucky kissed him so sweetly that he crumbled like a city under siege, showing his own embarrassing sentimentality. He hadn’t meant to get so attached. It had just _happened_ , and here he was, powerless to do anything about it.

“I’ll see you soon, doll.”

Tony had wiped furiously at his eyes - which were absolutely not watering - and offered Bucky a wobbly smile. “See you soon.”

It had only taken an hour of staring at the ceiling for Tony to get restless. He showered, dressed, combed his hair into some semblance of order-

And then remembered the letter, only because he stepped on it in his search for the sweater Bucky had left so casually on the other side of the bed.

 

_Dear Tony,_

_By the time you read this, I’ll be well on my way to another continent - unless you’re so impatient that you read it before I leave, in which case you’ll have to read it again after I’ve gone for it to sound the way I want it to._

_This last week with you has been one of the best of my life. When I told Steve I’d go to that party, I never dreamed I’d meet someone like you. Someone I could be really serious about. Someone who makes me laugh. Someone I want to take care of. And I know what I’m doing is important, going to fight for freedom and all, but I’ve never been so sorry to have to leave._

_Promise me you’ll think about me. It’s nice to be thought of. Even nicer when it’s you doing the thinking. I know I won’t be able to stop thinking about you._

_Yours,_

_Bucky_

 

Tony must’ve read it a hundred times before finally setting it down, the words still bouncing around in his head. He picked the sweater up off the floor, tugged it over his head, and slid his arms into the sleeves as he walked toward his office in search of a pen and paper. He rifled through his desk until he found something nicer than plain paper, stationery with clean black lines and a modest design on the envelopes. Quickly, as if his life depended on it, he pulled out a pen and started writing.

 

_Dear Bucky,_

_How dare you disappear leaving me with nothing but this letter? Well. I guess you left me your sweater, too. I hope you know I plan to wear it, at least around the house. It still smells like you. Makes me wish you were here. Of course, I was already wishing that._

_Nobody’s ever told me they could be serious about me. I hope that’s a good thing, because I’ve never felt serious about anyone before you. I think we might really have something here. I don’t know. I’ve never had as much fun with anyone as I’ve had with you._

_Anyway. I hope you’re warm. I hope you’re safe. And don’t worry, I definitely won’t stop thinking about you anytime soon. Maybe ever._

_Tony_

_~_

_Tony,_

_I’m sure this letter won’t reach you until a week after we dock, but the Queen Mary is scheduled to get us across the Atlantic in just six days. This is day two, and all the men on this ship are already eager to make it the rest of the way. According to some of the crew, this boat was originally built for five-thousand. There are three times that many of us on board. Things are cramped, and it’s hot more often than not, but at least we won’t be here for long._

_I miss you. I’m sorry I can’t write more. I’ll send you a longer letter as soon as we make port._

_Bucky_

_~_

_Bucky,_

_I hope that by the time you get this, you’ve made it safely to your next destination, wherever that is. I’m sorry they packed you in so tightly on your ship. It sounds uncomfortable. Then again, I’m sure marching for miles every day probably isn’t too comfortable either. For what it’s worth, I’m proud of you. It’s good, what you’re doing. You and Steve. We don’t deserve you. Hopefully you two can really make a difference over there._

_I’ve gotten roped into working with Stark Industries on some of their technology. Repairs, brainstorming, that sort of thing. For now I’ll be working here in New York, but there’s a possibility I might be moved closer to the front lines just so they don’t have to keep shipping everything back and forth. Maybe I’ll get to see you sooner than you think. For now, I’ll just be your humble mechanic, fixing your broken planes from afar._

_I miss you. Stay safe. Write back soon._

_Tony_

_~_

_Tony,_

_Well, we all made it to camp in one piece. It’s wet and rainy here, which is a welcome change from the humid heat of the Queen Mary. Steve and I have made some good friends. Men we can trust. Rations are about as delicious as I imagined. Everything comes from a can. Better than no food at all. I know I made dinner that third night we spent together, but I don’t think I ever told you I love to cook. Maybe once the war is over, I can make good use of that huge kitchen of yours._

_Speaking of which, don’t go starving without me. I haven’t forgotten what Peggy said. Something about you getting wrapped up in a project and forgetting to eat or sleep or shower or change clothes. Please take good care of yourself, especially since I’m not there to do it for you._

_Bucky_  

_~_

_Bucky,_

_I resent that accusation. I’m very good at taking care of myself. I just choose not to._

_In all seriousness, Stark Industries keeps me on a strict schedule. They just about force me to take breaks at specific intervals, which is probably a smart, safe idea, considering some of the tiny materials I have to stare at for hours on end._

_I’m of course keeping all your letters. Right now I’m trying to think of the best way to preserve them. Maybe bind them all together into a book? I’m starting to think I should keep carbon copies of my letters, too, just so I can read back through them in order someday._

_Anyway. I’m sending this letter via V-Mail. You’ll have to tell me if it actually gets there sooner, since that’s what the advertisements promise. I know one of the women who scans these in, and she assures me that the postal workers are as discreet as anything, so no need to worry about that._

_I wish I could be there with you. I miss you. Write back soon._

_Tony_

_~_  

_Tony,_

_The letter did come quicker, even if the print is smaller, so I’d call it a victory for Victory Mail. (Sorry. Couldn’t resist.) I think the point is to make transports weigh less. Using the films instead of paper letters means we can transport more supplies. A few other men here get V-Mail, too. Wouldn’t be surprised if it’s all they allow you to send after a while._

_Do you remember when we danced together at the Stark Expo? I do. Sometimes I can’t get that music out of my head. Reminds me that what we have isn’t all made up._

_Have to get to sleep. We’ve got an early morning tomorrow. I’ll write again soon._

_Bucky_  

_~_

_Bucky,_

_Of course I remember our dance. How could I forget?_

_Also, remember those advertisements I told you about? Well, they say that we on the homefront should be writing to you about anything and everything, even the most mundane aspects of our lives. Apparently that’s supposed to help you in some way. My life isn’t all that interesting, but I guess since the V-Mail was expedited as promised, I should trust whatever else those stupid ads say until they’re proven wrong._

_My day has been pretty uneventful. I went out to buy groceries and realized it’s been weeks since I actually cooked something for myself. I stopped by to see Peggy and asked if she had any cookbooks lying around, and after she harassed me for assuming that just because she was a woman she’d have a cookbook - which I probably deserved - she made me copies of some of her family recipes. I’m trying not to start with anything too ambitious, so I’m for tonight I’m making a potato and cheese bake. Peeling potatoes is probably the most tedious thing I have ever done, and it took much longer than I thought. Which all goes to say, I hope these actually taste good._

_I hope you’re staying warm. I have some money to spend this month, and I know I could just donate it straight to the war effort, but I’d rather send something to you and your men, so let me know if there’s anything you need._

_I wish that I could say this last part in person, but since you’re half a world away, I guess pen and paper will have to do._

_I love you._

_Tony_

~

_Tony,_

_I love you too. Can’t believe it’s taken me so long to say it. Can’t believe I let you say it first._

_I’m sorry it’s been so long since my last letter. Things have been moving fast here. We’ve doubled down on the evening watches and during daylight we’re either moving or trying to keep our feet dry._

_I wish I could be with you. Wish I could hold you. I think about those nights we spent together all the time. Keeps me from getting too lonely. Still, I’m sure my memories don’t do the real thing justice. Can’t wait till I can have you in my arms again._

_Love,_

_Bucky_

-

_Dear Bucky,_

_This will be my last letter before we’re back on the same continent. Stark Industries has decided to relocate, and they’re bringing me along. I got the news last-minute, so I’m at home taking a break from packing to write you this note. Just wanted to make sure you didn’t worry in case it takes me a while to get my next letter out._

_I love you. With any luck, I’ll see you soon._

_Love,_

_Tony_  

-

Tony was in London a grand total of two days before he and Bucky were reunited. He’d had a chance to shower at least, and to get his belongings moved into the underground flat in London. Stark Industries was following the Churchill example and keeping things safely hidden - and protected from potential bombings - below the streets.

In the end, it was Howard’s fault that Tony got caught in the lie. Howard hadn’t shared the itinerary. Howard hadn’t told him that Captain America and the Howling Commandos would be stopping by to peruse Howard’s new weapon designs, which meant that he and Bucky and Howard would all be in the same room together. And Tony had gotten no warning.

The presentation had been harmless enough. Howard hadn’t introduced Tony except to call him ‘our illustrious demonstrator’ like he was part of some sort of magic act. Tony had helped show off the new tech, the guns, the knives, the shield. Then Howard had offered to take the men out for drinks, and the group had disbanded, the Howling Commandos - save for Bucky - heading up the stairs. Tony had willed Howard to disappear, to leave him and Bucky alone. Of course, Howard had never done anything helpful in his whole life. He had no prerogative to start now.

“Thanks for the presentation,” Bucky said to Howard. “You always deliver a good product.”

“You’re very welcome. We like to help our boys in any way we can.” Howard finished putting each of the guns in their individual boxes, snapping them closed and turning to look at Bucky, then Tony. “Tony actually helped with a couple of these - have I introduced you? I’m sorry, that’s rude of me. Bucky, this is Tony, my little brother.”

Well. There was the cat entirely out of the bag.

A long pause. Tony watched the information process, saw Bucky make the connection and saw his expression shift to something entirely neutral. “We’ve met, actually.” Bucky inclined his head, polite enough that Tony could’ve cringed. “Good to see you again.”

“Oh! Great.” Howard smiled brightly, oblivious, then started gathering up his things. “Well then, I’ve got to meet those boys at the pub. I’ll leave the two of you to catch up.”

The silence after Howard left the room was deafening, broken only by the sound of the door clicking closed. Tony licked his lips, fighting a totally inappropriate urge to run up to Bucky, kiss him, and beg for forgiveness. _Come on. Say something._

Finally, Bucky spoke. “You’re Anthony _Stark_.”

The silence stretched between them again, and Tony shrugged his shoulders helplessly. “Yeah,” he said, letting out a breath. “Yeah. I am.”

“You addressed all your letters ‘Anthony Edward.’” Bucky didn’t look mad. Serious, yes; solemn and focused and dead silent, but not _mad_. He tilted his head just slightly, as if he was seeing Tony for the first time. “You look like him. Don’t know how I didn’t notice before.”

Tony’s shoulders sagged further, and he tried not to sound crestfallen. “It’s _really_ not a big deal.”

“Then how come you didn’t tell me?”

Tony bit his lip. “I don’t know.” That wasn’t true. It hadn’t been a casual omission. It had been a deliberate one. He owed Bucky the real explanation. “I was worried, I guess. Worried you’d think less of me, or that you wouldn’t want to be with me because I was just Howard’s little brother. I didn’t want Howard anywhere near this. Us. I didn’t want you - I don’t know. _Equating_ us in your mind. We’re not the same. We’re alike in a lot of ways, but I’m not him.”

“I know that, doll.”

To Tony’s surprise, Bucky moved toward him, slow, measured steps until they were less than a foot apart. Bucky reached out to take Tony’s hand, and god, how good it felt to _touch_ Bucky again, to be physically close when they’d spent so long apart.

“Doesn’t change how I feel about you,” Bucky said. “Just wish you had trusted me.”

“I did. I do. But… would you have gotten involved with me if you’d known I was Howard Stark’s baby brother?” Tony didn’t wait for Bucky to respond - he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer. “Most men who get close enough learn that particular fact try to go after my money, or else they steer clear.”

“I understand.” Bucky’s free hand carded through Tony’s hair, and Tony closed his eyes. Hell. He had missed Bucky _so much_. His self-control disintegrated, and Tony leaned forward, pulling Bucky down into a long, needy kiss. Bucky responded eagerly, holding Tony tight until they finally drew back for air.

“I’m sorry,” Tony said softly, resting his forehead against Bucky’s. “I should’ve told you sooner. But I wanted to be my own person. Especially with you.”

“I know.”

They kissed again, Bucky taking the lead, and by the time they broke apart Tony was breathless and practically aching. “So. You’re - you’re not mad?”

Bucky shook his head no.

Tony sighed in relief. Bucky Barnes was truly amazing, and Tony didn’t deserve him. “Then can we - I don’t know. Go somewhere? Somewhere private?”

Bucky’s heated gaze only added fuel to the fire. “Your place alright?” Bucky asked.

“Yeah. My place is perfect.”

Bucky reached out, taking Tony’s hand and threading their fingers together. “Lead the way.”

~

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! My hope is to write a few more one-shots to go along with this fic to fill in some of the things we read about but never see (like the Stark Expo, Tony going to Peggy's, etc.). Let me know in the comments if that's something you'd be interested in.
> 
> For those who still use it, feel free to come say hi on [tumblr](https://sopherfly.tumblr.com/) anytime. :)
> 
> For those who were interested in some more historical context, here are some awesome links for your perusal:  
> [Sex and condoms during WWII](http://www.mackenziekincaid.com/writing/research/condoms-in-wwii/) (oddly specific to fanfiction writers - give it a read!)  
> [Letter writing](https://postalmuseum.si.edu/victorymail/letter/index.html) and [Victory Mail](http://www.sarahsundin.com/love-letters-and-victory-mail/)  
> [A History of Underwear](http://www.internationaljock.com/history-of-underwear.html) (WWII specific)  
> [History of the Queen Mary](https://warfarehistorynetwork.com/daily/wwii/voyages-to-victory-rms-queen-marys-war-service/)


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